Life’s Too Short To Wear Matching Socks … Or A Bra

When I lived in Ohio, I taught a workshop for women called “Life’s Too Short To Wear Matching Socks.”

It was a fun workshop to teach, but exhausting, psychologically. I used writing and art for women to tell their stories and talk about parts of their lives that needed to change.

Wow.

There is nothing like getting a group of women together and having them feel open enough to tell their stories.

I think that the workshops were transformational to the women who attended. From the responses, they were. But the real value in teaching, is when you learn. Being open to having your ‘students’ change you, is the perk.

Not wearing matching socks is about not conforming to other’s expectations. Sure, we have to do some degree of conforming, but that doesn’t mean that our entire life has to be that way. OUr lives are ours. What we think is ours. Our experiences are ours. And our story is ours.

If I did a workshop today, the title would be “Life’s Too Short To Wear A Bra.”

Let’s discuss breasts for a moment. It’s Saturday and no one is probably reading this, anyway, so I shall amuse myself.

Used to love watching National Geographic when they showed women in tribes in Africa or some other country, not wearing bras. They didn’t wear tops, either, so there was plenty of exposure.

Their bosoms hung free. There were all sizes and shapes of breast, which I thought was fascinating. And they didn’t hide them. They went about their lives. And I can’t say that I saw any with implants.

The bosoms weren’t pushed up and popped out of the tops of tops as décolletage.

They didn’t have over the shoulder boulder holders.

And most of time, those women smiled.

Between wearing stilettos and bras that have wires and support systems to lift, separate and expose, it is surprising that women function at all.

Since I have been getting radiation, I haven’t worn a bra … and I feel like I could run the world.

It is freeing, liberating and comfortable.

I mean seriously, do men wear jock straps all of the time to keep their gonads in place?

As I said, I doubt anyone is reading, today.

The answer to that question about gonads, I would venture to guess, is no.

And look at men’s shoes. They put them at a distinct advantage to women. They shoes give them balance. They don’t have to totter around and worry about fallingor mankingtheir calves look better.

Good grief. Some things are so silly.

Society and fashion expect women’s bosoms to be in a certain place.

Age and gravity think otherwise.

I must admit that bras are good for keeping your breasts from swinging into your armpit, but other than that. What is the deal?

I don’t want to burn the bra. I just don’t want to wear one.

Is it because I am getting older, that I am just tired of some of the shenanigans that have been set in our heads as things we must do?

If who I am in my natural, this. Is me, state, I really don’t have time for it.

As I sit in my big room, it is quiet, except for the clock. It is ticking.

It just is. If you are 15, it is ticking. If you are 36 it is ticking. And when you are 6 6, it seems to tick a bit faster. Christmas is always around the corner. It can’t be February …I just cleaned up dishes from Thanksgiving.

Last night, someone asked me what time I get up. I said that sometimes I get up at 5, sometimes 4.

I happen to love mornings and function better early in the day.

I am marvelous before the world smacks me in the face. I am upbeat and see everything as a possibility, until I hear about another school shooting and the tit-for-tat coming from Washington. Life sis so gorgeous when I open my door to let Winston out and I step onto the patio and hear birds singing and see a squirrel. The sounds of my mixer are much better to me than listening to a lot of people, especially ones who make huge salaries and know nothing more than what I know. Maybe, less.

I just had a thought. You know part of what is wrong with the media? They don’t know what matters. Seriously. Read the papers or news online or watch it on TV. Kardashians and when they fart, is not news. Hearing about another inaneTwitter comment is not news. And hearing about a reaction to a reaction to a reaction of an unnamed source’s statement, is clutter.

Death by clutter. Media clutter.

Wow, I got off the bra, didn’t I? I threw that thing off and let er rip.

Well, I am done. An abrupt ending, for sure. No transition and nice exit. I’m just done … finished. I want to go get another cup of tea nad have a chat with my bosoms.

Susan

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